ISE Project
by M90A4
Summary: I.S.E. Project, short for International Shipgirl Exchange Project, the end result of international agreements between the various Navies to host shigirls for the sake of interoperability, friendship between shipgirls and technology exchanges. The end results isn't always the desired results...
1. Fubusty

Admiral Goto stared across his desk at the saluting destroyer with creeping apprehensiveness, there was something different about her, which he couldn't quite put his finger on.

 _Boing boing._

"Fubuki-chan," Goto cleared his throat, "Welcome home, I take you had an eventful deployment to America, thanks to the I.S.E. Program?"

 _Jiggle boing boing._

Fubuki smiled serenely "Yes, Admiral. I made lots of friends and saw all kinds of neat things! I even brought souvenirs!"

 _Shake jiggle boing._

The Admiral nodded sagely "That's wonderful, you made connections and new comrades over there. Friends are wonderful."

 _Boing boing boing._

"Indeed!" The destroyer replied in an almost too bubbly tone "I even have pictures! I'll show you them!"

 _Shakity, jiggly boing!_

Goto held up a hand, signalling her to stop. "Not now, Fubuki-chan. I'm still on duty, show me later. By the way..." The admiral held up a piece of paper, "It's to my understanding you... underwent an upgrade during your stay, correct?"

 _Boing boing!_

"Yes! Fubuki had her range and endurance increased!"

 _Jiggly jiggle._

Goto furrowed his brows "Ah... is that so? That's quite the useful improvement. What did they modify?"

 _Boing jiggle._

"They added bigger fuel tanks!" The brunette destroyer pointed at her chest which now sported... very large breasts.

The admiral stared. And stared. Then stared some more. So THAT was what was different about her.

"Hmm... they look Atago-sized." Goto commented lightly. "Well- big fuel tanks, and longer cruising range is a GOOD thing."

"Hehe! Yep! I crossed the Pacific without needing to refuel three times like I used to! Now I only need to refuel once! Isn't that awesome?!" Fubuki gushed excitedly while her new endowments shook with each movement.

Goto smiled at the destroyer. "Yes, yes, indeed. That will be all, Fubuki. Dismissed!"

Fubuki fired off a salute, her fuel tanks shaking wildly from the sudden movement. "Sir!"

After seeing the destroyer off, Goto then plopped heavily into his chair heaving a sigh. "Those Yankees... what sort of dastardly improvement will they come up with next?!"

The sudden, unmistakable keening wail of a certain flight-deck chest light carrier from somewhere outside, reverberated throughout the admiral's office: "WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY?!"

"Huh, seems Ryuujou met Fubuki sooner than I thought." Goto rubbed his chin in thought "Hmm looks like Ryuujou could use some time off...

The Admiral glanced at Ryuujou's image among the other shipgirls' portraits, mounted on the wall next to his desk.

"I believe I found my next I.S.E. Program candidate..." The admiral leaned forward, his grin taking a conspiratorial shade "...I wonder what those dastardly Yankees will do to her..."


	2. Flower Child Warspite

Admiral Cunningham sighed as he read the the daily reports, nothing particularly interesting jumped at him, other than the everyday resource issues and the occasional 'from-no-where' Abyssal destroyer incursions.

He absentmindedly skimmed through the next several pages 'till he arrived at the daily communiques, which contained the top secret communications from the Allied navies.  
The admiral flipped through several pages, for none of them held any particular importance either, that is, until one of the last few pages caught his eye.  
"Right, this one... from America..." Cunningham mumbled to himself as he read the contents of the missive. "Hmm... oh yes. Warspite is due to return..."

The British leaned back in his comfy office chair, "It's been four months already?"  
He slowly smiled as he remembered the day he saw Warspite off as an candidate of the I.S.E. Program.

The weathered, stoic British battleship giving off a perfect, stiff Navy salute in the best of the Royal Navy traditions, as she stood off the Portsmouth wharf in the frigid Atlantic waters like the proper British shipgirl she was.

Then followed by the days when the Royal Navy base acted as an gracious host to the American exchange shipgirl, an Essex class aircraft carrier, hull number CV-20, a Miss Bennington.  
The Essex class proved to be particularly useful due to her long endurance and staying power during lengthy patrols, and her ability to put larger amounts of airplanes in the air, covering more ground when acting in the reconnaissance roles.

It was almost painful to let her go when it was time for her go back home. _Almost._  
The girl was most insufferable when it came to getting along with the Royal Navy fleet carrier girls, mocking their shortcomings as carriers. Smaller aircrew, shorter range, and enormously long docking times when they took significant damage.

But on the other hand, Bennington got on famously with the destroyer and cruiser shipgirls.  
When it was time for her to return to America, the farewells from the cruisers and destroyers were teary while the fleet carriers thumbed their noses at her.

Overall, it was a typical Anglo-American relationship as it always was.

The sharp trilling of the desk-bound intercom cut into the Admiral's reminiscing, reacting halfheartedly he opened the line.

"What is it, Renown?" Cunningham curtly demanded.

"Sir, Warspite is here, newly arrived from America." Came the soft contralto of the secretary ship, but there was an odd undertone of uncertainity which was certainly unlike Renown's usual tone.  
Cunningham made a mental note of this.

"Already? Then, send her in." The admiral answered while straightening his already immaculate uniform of any imaginary wrinkles.

"Yes, sir. Sending her in." The battleship acknowledged as she cut the line.

Cunningham worked his lips into the best 'Welcome Home' smile as he could manage with those tough old Royal Navy lips of his. Which wasn't much, for it was a tight line, closer to a frown than a smile.

Boom!

The door to his office was flung open with such force, and slammed into the wall, the door handle embedded into the wall creating huge spider-web cracks.

"Heeeeeeeyyyyyyy Warspite has arrived~!"

Cunningham blinked.

"Uh, Welcome Home, Warspite." The admiral lightly answered the battleship's hail while taking the moment to inspect the shipgirl in front of him.

She wore the uniform she always wore. Nothing different here... wait.

Cunningham narrowed his eyes at the battlehip's neck. Dangling impudently from her neck was the tri-pronged Peace symbol.

Most worrying. Indeed. Most worrying.

But, even more worrying was the fact the battleship was surrounded by an _odd_ atmosphere.

It was... cutsey pink and yellowy. The admiral swore he saw flying flowers. Roses, even.

The admiral cleared his throat. He was uncertain what to make of the whole spectacle, so he began with the basics: "What... happened to you, Warspite?"

"What dooooooo you meaaaaaaaaaan by what happened to meeeeeee~?" The battleship singsonged.

What. Warspite never ever singsonged. Not once. Ever.

"You certainly seem... more chipper than before." Cunningham observed. Well, quite the understatement.

"Yes~ Warspite is so happy~! Warspite had the happiest four months of her life!"

Okay now she's talking in third person?!

"Ah... please... elaborate." The admiral fought down a rising tight lump in his throat.

"Okay~" Warspite began "The Americans, bless their hearts, gave my steering PR~OP~PER~ attention and fully repaired it!"

As if to prove a point, Warspite suddenly raised a leg and both arms, then proceeded to spin on her lone balancing leg like a ballet dancer.

"See, see! I can perfectly steer!"

"Yes, yes. I can see that." Cunningham pinched the bridge of his nose. The hell? Britain's most decorated battleship was spinning around like a damn ballet in his office?!

The admiral pressed the intercom buttom, HARD and made his demand without waiting for the secretary ship; "Bring me Tea. The strongest tea you can brew!" and cut the line before Renown could confirm.

Cunningham shifted his focus back to the Grand Old Lady, and asked tersely "Anything else I should know, Warspite"

Warspite clapped her hands together. "Oh yes! The Americans also repaired my third turret!"

Finally a sensible piece of news. "That's wonderful news. Now about your deployment..."

"I refuse." Warspite smiled.

Cunningham narrowed his eyes, HARD. "Can you repeat that?"

"I refuse to fight." The battleship's smile widened.

"Why is that?" The British admiral tightly demanded.

The Grand Old Lady cleared her throat; "Well~ when the Americans repaired me fully, it lifted this haze from myself and for the first time I could think clearly without being hamstrung by pain from my steering and my damaged third turret... It made me remember couple of things."

"Such as...?"

The Limey warship lifted the tri-pronged Peace symbol from her neck; "My name, Warspite. I spite War. Hence I refuse to fight." Warspite's smile now somehow resembled that troll face meme.

"Oh for the love of..." Cunningham cried in utter despair. This was just utter bloody shit! Britain's most loved battleship just REFUSED to fight just because of her name?!

Seriously. Fuck this day!

The admiral furiously and repeatedly pressed the glowing red button on the intercom. "TEA! TEA! BRING ME EXTRA BLOODY STRONG TEA! FULL AHEAD, DAMN THE TORPEDOES!"

Cunningham slowly turned back to the battleship "As for you, Warspite... get the fuck out. I'll deal with you LATER!"

"Okay!" Warspite fired off a silly salute, a total mockery of the time-honored Royal Navy salute.

The British admiral then slowly slid back into his chair as he buried his face deeply into his hands.

"Those... fucking Yankees... Those FUCKING overpaid, oversexed, coffee loving, tea burning colonials!" His voice cracked "How DARE they make a mockery out of our Warspite!"

That day, any shipgirls who passed by the admiral's office swore up and down they heard sobbing noises emanating from the depths of the office.


	3. Legend you!

"Akagi-senpai!" Fubuki called out, while pressing a hand against her left ear "Surface radar's picking something!"

The destroyer then pointed at the horizon "Eleven o'clock, a klick and half out!"

"Allright, Fubuki-chan, give me a moment." Akagi then closed her eyes to vector her already airborne reconnaissance planes in the direction the destroyer indicated.

Off to their right, Kaga quickly nocked a torpedo squadron arrow in preparation.

Fubuki's eyes slowly grew wide. "Uh, surface radar's returning with an echo larger than any known Abyssal, short of an Harbor Princess! It's about twice the size of an Anchorage Oni!"

Kaga showed visible signs of tensing, her lips tightening into a line. But Akagi on the other hand, opened her eyes while shaking her head. "You guys aren't going to believe what I'm seeing!"

"What is it?! A new Abyssal?!" The brunette destroyer all but shouted.

"Not quite..." The bauxite queen drawled, "Well, some of it are Abyssal, but I'm seeing lots of gold and-"

Kaga turned towards Akagi with an expression that could only be described as Kaga's own brand of confusion, while somehow keeping her ever straight-laced, stoic expression "Wait. What do you mean by 'some'? Have they found allies?"

The gluttonous carrier shook her head "I don't know how to describe it, I think you'd best see for yourselves! Here they come!"

Out of the choppy swells of the sea erupted a gigantic, gilded golden carriage resembling a towering steepled Aztec temple, emplaced atop a twin hulled ship's hull pulled by a mix of a dozen of Ri-class heavy cruisers and I-class Abyssal destroyers, which leapt out of the drink like deformed dolphins. Flustered, scantly clad Ri-class heavy cruisers grunted along with a heavy harness-like yoke around their midriffs, attached to glossy obsidian heavy chains leading back to the gilded carriage.

The golden carriage sloshed to an halt in front of the group, Akagi, and Fubuki stared with the bottoms of their jaws well and truly hitting the bottom of the Mariana Trench. Kaga on the other hand, somehow kept her stoic expression while her jaw dropped along theirs.  
It wasn't the fact the Abyssals were displaying such an outrageous scene, but rather _who_ the Abyssals were pulling.

For on the very top of the small gilded "temple", seated upon a blushing Midway-hime kneeling on all fours, whose backside served as an impromptu throne, sat the most famous aircraft carrier ever to exist.  
A couple black haired and horned Battleship-himes reclined, caressing the carrier's legs. A single Wo-class stood behind the 'throne' fanned away with a large palm leaf.

From the small group of Japanese kanmusus's point of view; the legendary carrier was like an regal empress, seated far above them, gazing down at them with her icy blue eyes like they were nothing but mere ants while surrounded by her harem. It was an surreal scene.

"Ahoy, there!" The blond legendary shipgirl informally called out.

"Enterprise-san!" Fubuki exclaimed.

"Foolish destroyer!" An Ri-class roughly addressed the destroyer, "You shall address her highness by her proper title, Enterprise-sama!"

Akagi blinked, while Kaga just stared... stoically.

"Ah.. Enterprise-sama?" A flustered Fubuki tried again while raising her hand, like the good schoolgirl she was.

"Yeah, Bucky?" Enterprise pointed at Dubuki from atop her throne.

The special destroyer spread her arms, encompassing the whole scene. "What's... this? Why do you have... _those_ things? Aren't we supposed to, like, fight them?"

"I am curious aswell." Kaga added plainly, while Akagi nodded.

"Ah, I dunno. I kinda kicked their asses all by my lonesome with just a single dive-bomber squadron, then they all suddenly started worshiping me." The legendary carrier answered lightly, in a matter-of-fact tone.

Akagi's mouth fell open once again.

"You achieved... all this with a single squadron?" Kaga questioned with a hint of disbelief underneath her stoicness.

Enterprise smirked. "Sure did, but not to beat my own drum, ask 'em." The Grey Ghost motioned at the 'enslaved' Abyssals.

The Abyssals nodded in a single unanimous unspoken confirmation.

Fubuki's eyes sparkled. "You really are a goddess along us mere kanmusu!"

Enterprise stood up, and started down the stairs. "I dunno about that. I'm just me, ya know?"

The Ri-class cruisers rushed to form impromptu Abyssal stairs when the legendary carrier reached the edge of the carriage, moaning almost erotically as the Big E stepped on their backs.

"Fubuki?" Akagi looked at the empty space beside her.

"Ah! Enterprise-sama's foot is so wonderful~" The destroyer cried from her new position. She somehow became the final step in the impromptu stairway.

Enterprise looked down at the hunched destroyer below her feet. "Oh my..."

"I'm sorry Akagi-senpai~ I got se~du~ced~ by Enterprise-sama's legendaryness~~!" Fubuki moaned from feeling the wonderful weight, arch and shape of the Big E's foot.

Enterprise stepped off Fubuki's back and helped the destroyer back to her feet. "Well, it can't be helped, Fubuki. I AM awesome, I suppose."

Fubuki's eyes went from sparkling to hearts, in her rosy pink-tinted point of view, Enterprise had become super bishouen! "Y...yes... Enterprise-sama... p... please legend me!"

"You traitor! You... NTR destroyer! You said you'd be my escort forever!" Akagi cried in despair.

Enterprise put on her most winningest, bishouen smile. "Akagi, you don't have to be... alone. I'll legend you too."

"Oh really? What's in it for me? And what do you mean by you'll legend me?" The red skirted gluttonous carrier asked.

"I dunno exactly, but I do know there's Eat As Much As You Can buffet involved." Enterprise shrugged while maintaining her 'I'm-a-fucking-legend' smirk.

"Okay~ Legend me toooo~" The atmosphere surrounding Akagi suddenly became cutesey yellow and flowery as she skipped towards the legendary carrier's outstretched arm.

A single stoic tear rolled down Kaga's stoic cheek as she stood alone, surrounded by an atmosphere of.. gloomy stoicness.

"Traitor... Akagi... you NTR carrier..."


	4. Summoned by coffee?

Nagato eyed the bloodied corpses of the Abyssal force floating on the water's surface, with a grimace.

They had been ambushed by a small force consisting of a single Wo-class, an Ta-class, and a gaggle of I-class destroyers.

Seriously, what the heck were they attempting to do, ambushing a fleet of three battleships, two cruisers, two fleet carriers, and half dozen destroyers?

Needless to say, it wasn't a clean fight; Akagi had taken a bomb and required half a day's docking, Kaga even longer, no thanks to the torpedo she took.

Right now the undamaged girls were busy rifling through the corpses's pockets for blueprints, intel or anything that might be useful.

"Boss!" Silver haired destroyer Nowaki called out from her spot by the downed Wo-class "This one had this on her!"

Nowaki then held up a... coffee can?

"Ara, how unusual. A coffee can." Mutsu rested her hand on her cheek.

Nowaki shook the can. "It's heavy too. It's gotta be something important!"

"Give it here." Nagato ordered.

Nowaki pulled alongside and handed off the coffee can to the battleship, then went back to inspecting the corpses

Mutsu drew close to Nagato to inspect the object, "Nagato-nee... the label's kinda readable. I can't make the words out though..."

Nagato narrowed her eyes, "It's in English, Mutsu. Let's see..." The battleship turned the can over slowly, reading the large, embossed letters.

The letters were intact, except for one badly scrubbed and scratched out letter.

"ST*RBUCKS COFFEE. What the heck is a STRBUCKS?" Nagato mused out loud.

"Sounds like a fancy coffee place, Nagato-nee." Mutsu then snatched the can out of Nagato's hands and started pulling the lid off. "Let's see what's inside!"

"Mutsu, what if it's booby-trapped?!"

"Oh, come off it, Nagato-nee. It isn't THAT heavy. If it was seriously booby trapped, no amount of explosives stuffed in something as small as this would harm our battleship armor!..." Mutsu then mumbled in a lower tone "...Unless it was inside my third turret..."

"Above water, sure, it wouldn't do much harm. But if you dropped it underwater...!" The elder battleship warned.

Mutsu puffed her cheeks as cutely as she could. "Geez, Nagato-nee, I'll be careful I promise."

"Still, it's pretty unusual for Abyssals to carry around a coffee can." Nagato wondered out loud as she assumed a thinking position.

"Ugh this thing's on tight!" The younger battleship grunted as she added more of her impressive shaft horsepower to the task of opening the damn thing.

"..." Nagato's frown deepened before realization hit her!

"Mutsu," Nagato tersely called out to her sister.

"WHAT?!" Mutsu all but shouted in her fustration. This damnable thing was resisting all 80,000 of her horsepower!

"Quick, throw that thing away! It's a..."

*pop*

The aromatic scent of freshly ground coffee beans wafted into the air surrounding the battleships.

Nagato facepalmed. "Fuck."

"Nagato-nee?"

"Mutsu, it's an summoning medium. You activated it when you opened it, I think."

Mutsu blinked "Summoning medium as in...?"

"Yes, Mutsu, summoning medium as in those things that call out to our fallen, yet un-summoned brethren and bring them back to this world, or something else since you forced a summoning without proper preparations."

The wind howled, and the calm seas became choppy.

Nagato tensed as she brought her cannons to bear. "It's happening."

Without any warning, something erupted from the water, barreling right at Mutsu, and snatched the coffee can out of the battleship's grip!

Mutsu stumbled back a step "Wha?!"

Nagato spun and leveled her heavy rifles at the sudden intruder.

Mutsu brought a hand to her mouth as she gasped, the thing... or person, or shipgirl... heck, they weren't certain what it was at first glance. Upon closer inspection, the intruder looked like an teenaged, destroyer-sized girl.

Said girl was crouching on threes, while gripping the coffee can to her chest like it was the most precious thing ever, her mouth pulled into a menacing snarl.

The battleships stared at the girl, every turret on their rigging pointed directly at her, ready to blow her to kingdom come lest she pulled any funny moves.

Mutsu slowly pointed at the hunched girl and whispered, "Nagato-nee... you see those markings on her legs...?"

"DD-557... she's a destroyer... but she isn't one of ours." Nagato raised her brow as she read the girl's legs.

Mutsu took note of the girl's features. "She doesn't look... right."

The unknown destroyer had unkempt sandy hair, wild bloodshot eyes, and her rigging was a complete wreck. How she was still floating was beyond them. The ratty remains of what once was a white serafuku covered the girl's important bits but nothing else.

"I've seen this sort of thing before. It's an improperly done summons, Mutsu." The elder battleship let the 'improper' hang in the air, weighting on the younger battleship's conscience.

The malsummoned girl let out a low grumbling noise as she slightly shifted her postion.

"She's doing something!" Nagato shouted!

The strange destroyer slowly stood to her full height and her snarl slowly morphed into a cutsey kitty smile as she rubbed her cheek against the coffee can.

"My precioussssssssssss... yes... I, Johnston, finally found you, my preciousssssssssssssssssss coffee... yessssssssss preciousssssss...!

Nagato and Mutsu both blinked incredulously.

"Nagato-nee...?" Mutsu tugged on Nagato's skirt.

"Yes...?"

"Does the I.S.E. Program cover this? She IS a foreign kanmusu."

"Uh..." Nagato became flustered. She was at a complete loss here. "I... think?"

=/=/=

AN: USS _Johnston_ , DD-557 was born (launched) in Seattle, and that certain coffee chain aswell. Two different time peroids, same place, but alas. Coffee.


	5. Enterprise-sensei

A bit short story this time, but enjoy~

Kaga wasn't sure what to feel about the I.S.E. Program in it's entirety.

Although, she understood the intent of the program, but... old grudges and scores simply did not disappear at a snap of the finger to appease the bureaucrat signatories of the I.S.E. agreement, signed by civilian and military politicos born in the generations proceeding after the War she fought and sank in. Those which did not experience the hard hand of war.

When her Navial base played host to American shipgirls, she tolerated them, even formed friendships with the _gaijin_ shipgirls, especially the ones born... or rather launched in the years after her sinking. Fletcher-class, 'girls, even Essex-class 'girls too, simply because she did not bear grudges against them.

The days passed by without incident... until her base accepted a certain aircraft carrier.

A certain legendary aircraft carrier.

This was something she couldn't let go or simply was unwilling to let bygones be bygones.

The ex-Tosa class stood behind the rice-papersliding door of Mamiya's Cafeteria, leaning slightly out, running her own visual recce and scoping out the occupants.

 _There she is!_ Along the hustle and bustle of the cafteria, sat a lone blond shipgirl wearing her disctinive scrambled egg peaked cap.

 _'Enterprise, today I shall set the record straight! By sundown, you will be weeping underneath my feet and I shall reclaim my righteous place!'_ Kaga smiled inwardly. Today, the world WOULD know who was the consummate professional aircraft carrier!

The blue skirted kanmusu stepped out into the open and took the first few steps towards correcting her percieved wrongs.

Kaga stopped in front of Enterprise's table, glaring down at the American carrier while clearing her throat.

The entire building went silent, shipgirls whispered along eachothers:

"Kaga-san's at it again, Ooicchi."

"This is gonna be interesting, Kitakami! But let's go elsewhere!"

"Ooh will Kaga show her BURNING LOVE?! Desu!"

"Hieeee~!"

"Drama! Drama! Aoba shall record it all!"

"Hawawawa!"

"Khorosho"

"Poi?"

Enterprise looked up from her massive 'Mamiya menu special, Akagi-seal-of-approvial' parfait, her icy blue eyes meeting Kaga's amber ones.

"Yes?" The legendary carrier mumbled around the spoon stuffed in her mouth.

"Enterprise-san..." Kaga began "I ask, no- I demand a rematch!" The former Tosa-class battlecruiser declared loudly, slamming her hands on the table. "I refuse to believe your _amateurish_ dive bombers got me! Your torpedo bombers were even more absurd! They were hopelessly pathetic, and childish! They couldn't even hit the broad side of a barn! What a bunch of losers!I shall show you the _proper_ way to torpedo and dive-bomb!"

"Them's fightin' words!" Enterprise growled as she stood to her full height. "I cannot stand by while you slander my boys!"

Excited whispers erupted from the observing shipgirls.

"Oh it's on! I hope they do NIGHT BATTLES!"

"Look everyone! It's me, the fleet idol NAKA-CHAN!"

"Hahah, I'm betting on Enterprise-san then spending my winnings on more sake!"

"Jun'yo-nee, I wish you'd spend on something other than sake."

"Oh my~ Oh my~ Nagato-nee, this is interesting."

"Hmpf. This has nothing to do with the Big 7, but I shall witness the match."

"Fufu, someone's gonna be scared!"

"Ara, Tenryuu-chan. So who are you betting on?"

"When is the match?! It's NENOHI!"

"Mic check time! ONE-TWO-"

"H, Haruna is daijoubu with this."

"I, Yamato, shall place bets on Enterprise-san."

"This Musashi shall endeavor to do so too!"

Kaga turned her head slightly towards the gathering of shipgirls, sending them her patented stink-eye.

Enterprise furrowed her brows while she stared at Kaga

"Uh... It's a bit embarrassing to ask- but who are you?"

Shock! A critical blow had been dealt!

Kaga gasped!

"You... you..." Kaga's voice shook. "You don't know who I am...? The ship YOU sank...?"

"Nope, sorry. I forget stuff easily. It's been what, seventy years? And it's proper to introduce yourself to the person your challenging. So your name?" The legendary carrier added matter-of-factually.

Doki! Another critical blow! Kaga clenched her chest while shaking.

A collective gasp went up from the surrounding shipgirls.

"You... I'll remember this! Wash your neck for the next time! Uweeeeeeeeen~~~" Kaga ran from the building with her face buried in her arms, tears trailing behind her, leaving a confused Enterprise behind.

Enterpise stared at Kaga's receding back "Um... just- just what happened? What about the match?"

"Enterprise-sama~!" Zuikaku bounded up to the American, her hands held together and her eyes sparkling in pure admiration.

"To utterly defeat Kaga-san without lifting a finger-" Zuikaku gushed excitedly, pure adoration gracing her features "TEACH ME ENTERPRISE-SENSEI!"

"WHAT?!"


	6. Verdammt, Bisko!

Admiral Hartmann was pleased. Today was a glorious day for the _Deutsche Marine._

Indeed, a very glorious day.

The German admiral sank into the depths of the plushy couch in the Rec room, while the large screen UHD television bolted to the wall, ran an live broadcast from America.

 _"... Indeed, The unprecedented award event hosting an foreign battleship..."_ The SNN news anchor rattled off in an nasal tone.

Hartmann smiled inwardly. He was proud of the accomplishments achieved by the ex-Kreigsmarine battleship, Bismarck, while temporarily serving under the flag of the United States Navy.

See, roughly half a month ago, a critical supply convoy run escorted by a half dozen cruisers, three light carriers and nearly as many destroyers had been intercepted and ambushed by an unusually large Abyssal force consisting of three battleships, one carrier, and twice as many cruisers and not to mention a dozen and half destroyers.

This was a rare show of force by the Abyssals, using surface forces in the Atlantic.

Normally, Abyssal attacks were conducted with submarines in the Atlantic, unlike those elsewhere.

Fortunately for most involved, Bismarck happened to be nearby with her squadron conducting a separate patrol. They immediately responded once distress calls started going out.

Had it been not the timely intervention of Bismarck's squadron; consisting of three destroyers and two heavy cruisers, the convoy would've suffered unacceptable losses or worse, outright annihilated.

When Bismarck's squadron joined battle, the battleship managed to force a large percentage of the Abyssal attackers to shift their focus and fire upon her, while counting on her heavy armor to hold their attention while the rest of her squad circled behind and made devastating torpedo runs to the Abyssal force's collective sterns. enabling the convoy escorts to make good on their counterattacks, forcing the Abyssals to retreat.

However, the entire battle wasn't without losses. Three out of the twenty-one cargo ships were lost, and tragically, four of the escorting destroyers were sunk. Nearly every cruiser required extensive docking time and were out of action for weeks.

Not to mention Bismarck herself required extensive docking time.

But still, the convoy made it largely due to Bismarck's bold actions that day.

As an result, Bismarck had been slated to receive the highest possible medal for foreigners, the Navy Cross. But it was felt the Navy Cross wasn't enough honor to match Bismarck's heroic acts, an loophole was created since Bismarck was technically an United States ship, serving under the United States flag for the duration of her stay, so orders went out to make the battleship a temporary full citizen eligible to receive the highest possible honor, the Medal of Honor.

In short, it was an unprecedented event. The first of it's kind, held for a foreigner much less a foreign shipgirl.

Hartmann wanted to attend the ceremony in person as the Deutsche Marine representative, but pressing matters and his position prevented him from doing so, the Naval attache at the German embassy filled in as Hartmann's representative.

The metallic _click_ of the door knob turning interrupted Hartmann's reminiscing, the admiral turned his head towards the door to see who was coming in.

Grey clad heavy cruiser Prinz Eugen pushed the door open with her foot while holding a tray carrying a pair of mugs.

"Ah, _Fräulein_ Prinz. You've come to witness the award ceremony." Hartmann called out, nodding knowingly.

" _Ja_ , admiral. I wouldn't miss it for the world!" Prinz smiled serenely. She was really proud of big sis Bismarck!

The blond shipgirl sauntered over to the coffee table and placed the tray upon it, picking a steaming white mug and offered it to Hartmann. " _Kaffee_ , admiral?"

 _"Danke."_ Hartmann nodded curtly as he accepted the drink.

The Teutonic heavy cruiser took the remaining mug and proceeded to enplace herself aside the admiral on the couch, sinking stern first into the plushy couch.

 _"So, our special guest of the day has made her appearance..."_ The SNN reporter's nasal voice crackled through the television's speakers.

Onscreen, Bismarck stiffly stood along her American squad comrades, her dark blue, near-black, double breasted _Deutsche Marine_ dress blues rippling slightly in the wind with her ever present peaked cap gracing her head.

 _"Well, she certainly looks a little grim."_ The nasal toned SNN reporter commented offhandedly as the onscreen image zoomed in for a shot of the battleship's face.

"Admiral," Prinz poked Hartmann's arm while the admiral was mid-swing "Sister Bismarck looks a little sweaty, no?"

The admiral suddenly spat out the coffee in a brown jet spray. "Pfffbbllgghh"

"Admiral?!" The heavy cruiser cried in concern.

"I'm fine." Hartmann wiped his mouth with his sleeve "More importantly, Bismarck is sweating...?" The admiral leaned close to the television and squinted his eyes.  
Sure enough, the battleship's visage looked absolutely drenched in sweat.

" _Verdammt_!" Hartmann grit his teeth "Prinz! Get me a phone, right now!"

The heavy cruiser, taken aback by the admiral's sudden outburst, "A-admiral, what?"

" _The President's finishing up his speech..._ " The television announced helpfully.

"PHONE, RIGHT NOW!" Hartmann pointed at the door. It was an order that promised severe punishment.

" _J-jawohl!"_ Prinz scrambled to her feet and rushed out the door.

Hartmann grimaced as he was left alone. This was bad. Very very bad.

See, Bismarck only sweated from two things:

1) Exertion  
2) Extreme stage fright.  
As of right now, number two was the culprit, given the situation.

A very very bad situation. Especially right now, to have her particular kind of stage fright, with half of the world's media watching her at the moment, because whenever she suffers from that, it causes her mind to discard 21st century common sense and political sensibilities, then reverting to her original 1940 mindset.

 _"Here she comes, our Germanic friend, the battleship Bismarck, strolling down the red carpet- is she goose-stepping?"_ The SNN reporter announced with a hint of disbelief.

"PRINZ! GET YOUR ARSCH IN HERE!"

The Bismarck onscreen approached the smiling President of the United States and crisply clicked her heels then...

"VERDAMMT! BISKO! DON'T DO IT!" Hartmann screamed frantically at the unresponsive television.

The sweaty battleship raised her arm in an stiff, forbidden salute and yelled at the top of her lungs: _"HEIL FUHRER!"_

"Admiral! I got you a phone!" Prinz Eugen burst into the room, holding a pink cellphone. But what awaited her was a surreal scene.

Admiral Hartmann was introducing his proud Teutonic forehead to the equally proud Teutonic varnished fir wall paneling while muttering " _Verdammt_ , Bisko!" over and over.

"A-admiral?" The bewildered Germanic heavy cruiser prodded.

Without stopping his personal time with the wall, Hartmann pointed at the television where very oblivious scenes of chaos were erupting, an flustered and agitated SNN news reporter shouted his disbelief.

"Too late, Prinz." The admiral muttered.

"A... ah... what did I miss?" Prinz stared at the television screen. Armed police and Secret Service agents surrounded an extremely red-faced Bismarck, trying to escort her out as they struggled to hold back the chaotic crowd.

"Bismarck just shamefully embarrassed us all. I cannot fucking believe she did that to the President." Hartmann moaned darkly.

"Sister Bismarck did _what_?" A saucer-eyed Prinz inquired.

Hartmann then stood ramrod straight, fixing his uniform. "Nevermind that, Prinz. We have work to do."

The admiral hove to, standing in front of the heavy cruiser, his steel blue eyes boring into her eyes.  
"Prinz Eugen! Set Public Relations Damage Control status to Code: Plaid!"

Prinz blinked. Code: Plaid was the highest damage control setting possible. It was solely reserved for emergencies such as "I'm sorry I 'torpedoed' your trophy flagship shipgirl's stern and now she's pregnant and unable to fight when we critically need her." and "Whoops, I took pictures of our beloved prime minister's pet rabbit doing shameful things to the visiting President's adorable, fluffy pet beaver."

The heavy cruiser stood at attention, giving the admiral a PROPER Navy salute. " _Jawohl,_ going Plaid!"

====================  
After many weeks and months of fending off tenacious litigious groups offended by Bismarck's shameful display and sending hard cease and deist letters to fringe supremacist and crazy anti-government groups attempting to make Bismarck their poster child, and repeated apologies and explanations about Bismarck's extreme stage fright... the end result was Bismarck least came home with a nice, shiny medal.


	7. Pear Shaped

Well, this story is significantly longer than normal and is a bit more serious.

I feel the humor falls flat in this story though.

Leave C&C if you'd rather me to continue writing light comedy stories.

...

Admiral Goto saluted at the twin-tailed light carrier Ryuujou as she floated on the relatively calm waters off Sasebo's main pier.

"Good luck and Godspeed, Ryuujou." Goto smiled, "And be sure to behave honorably while you're staying at San Diego. I remind you once again, you are our nation and navy's representative as part of the I.S.E. Program, this time around."

The saluting petite kanmusu smiled and fired back in her faux Osaka-ben; "Yah, yah. I getcha. I promise ye, I'll be good!"

The admiral gave a curt nod; "I'll hold you to that. You'd best be off, your convoy's leaving!"

"Aw crap!" The red clad kanmusu spun around, splashing water on the pier's edge as she churned a frothy wake. "Wait for meeeeeeeeee!"

Goto held his salute at the light carrier's receding back, smiling.  
However that smile wasn't exactly a friendly smile, for an conspiratorial shadow was cast upon his smiling face.

"I... really wonder what those Yankees will do to her with that upgrade program of theirs." The admiral wondered out loud to nobody in particular. "Really, that program has been helpful to us, especially when we cannot afford to waste resources as an nation, experimenting to see which upgrade sticks."

Fubuki's upgrade was an boon, the destroyer could stay with the carriers for much longer, acting as their escorting screen while other destroyers had to refuel. This was an especially vulnerable moment for the carriers. Before Fubuki's upgrade, refueling times had to be staggered, leaving the longer ranged carriers with an rather thin destroyer screen. Goto preferred to have every last destroyer available and fully fueled when making deep incursions into Abyssal territories.

Another boon was, when Fubuki came back with her increased fuel tanks, she brought back blueprints detailing how to build and apply the upgrade without wasting resources. Now the entire Fubuki class, and it's sub-class, the Ayanami class were undergoing the increased range upgrade.

The Elephant Lady class protested, naturally, when they weren't included in the upgrade program.

Actually, it was the Elephant Lady who did 99% of of the protesting.  
Hibiki merely shrugged and carried on, while Inazuma turned flame-red and fainted.  
Ikazuchi on the other hand loudly declared she didn't need bigger fuel tanks to make everyone rely on her.

Why they weren't included... well, it was thanks to a certain destroyer-loving battleship who threatened to shove her 16" rifles up his ass and make him feel the 'Power of the Big 7' if he included the adorable Akatsuki class in the upgrade program.

Goto unconsciously clenched his stern from that memory.

There was some discussion about the possibility of expanding the fuel tank upgrade to the Kagero, Shiratsuyu, and Hatsuharu classes.

However, same said battleship put her foot down.

When asked why she was so against the upgrade, she became flustered and evasive then counter-threatned with the repeated 16" penetration of said derriere.

The subject subsequently was dropped and nothing further spoken of the topic.

Goto smiled and nodded at the light carrier's distant blob on the horizon. "Godspeed, indeed."

...

When the light carrier arrived in San Diego, her eyes were sparkling with anticipation. She was so close to getting what she truly desired!

However, the goal slipped out of her hands a little when she was examined to determine her eligiablity for the upgrade by the on-duty American repair shipgirl, a Vestal-san.

The light carrier was led to a room that somewhat resembled an ordinary human examination room at an medical clinic and hooked Ryuujou to an machine which resembled a cross between defibrillators and an Xerox machine, it loudly clacked out printouts from the other end.

The repair shipgirl gave off the air of an older ship as she puffed on her cigarette while reading the print-outs on Ryuujou's assessments, shaking her head slowly.

Ryuujou internally panicked. The look on Vestal-san's face and her shaking head didn't bode well.

"Well, Miss RJ," The jet black haired shipgirl delibrately shortened the light carrier's name. "It seems you need to level a little before becoming eligible for the Naval Technology Revitalization program."

Yup, bad news.

"Yea? How much mo'?" Ryuujou asked.

"Not that much more, actually." The scratchy voiced repair ship answered. "Four more levels. About a month or two, give or take."

The visored light carrier heaved a relief of sigh. Not too far off, her goal was still within her grasp. "Tha' good, I s'pose."

"Yeah, yeah. Off with you, kiddo." Vestal grunted as she waved off the Japanese kanmusu. "Be sure to come back once your all leveled up."

Ryuujou at first took offense at Vestal's offhanded dismissal of her, as if the repair ship was treating Ryuujou's presence as an childish annoyance but during her stay at San Diego, the light carrier learned several things about the repair ship: Vestal was her elder. Vestal was older than her, older than her own mother figure, Houshou. Heck, the repair ship was even older than the oldest ship back at Sasebo, Kongou by an healthy margin.

Not to mention, Vestal's crankiness was from several events in her past life as an steel ship: She was literally in the middle of the hell that was Pearl Harbor, moored right next to Arizona herself, and lost several friends that day.

Ryuujou wasn't sure how to answer to that. Other than mentally offer the elder repair ship her profound apologies as an Japanese shipgirl.

Ryuujou understood that if she verbally expressed her sorrows to Vestal-san, she'd probably get her light carrier ass chewed out by the grumpy repair ship.

From that day forth, Ryuujou looked upon the elder repair ship with newfound respect, more akin to how one respects her elder. Not quite the senpai-kouhai relationship, but a youngster-elder relationship.

The light carrier then threw herself into leveling and improving herself, making herself useful to her host, the United States Navy.

...

Before she knew it, two months flew by and she reached the required level.  
Ryuujou stood in front of the base's admiral, holding her salute. She was profoundly shaking with excitement! Today she would finally get what she wanted the most!

"So d'ya think shes ready, Vestal?" Admiral Holloway gave the light carrier an once over.

The repair ship gave an noncommittal grunt as she puffed her cigarette. "I reckon so, Boss. The kid's done worked her butt off those months."

Ryuujou puffed her flight-deck chest out in pride! Vestal-san praised her!

"Allright, RJ." The American admiral began writing out an work order sheet and held it out, "Take this and report to the NTR guys in building twelve."

Ryuujou deflated. NTR? What? Was cheating on her admiral part of the upgrade process? Was this what Fubuki went through to receive those large fuel tanks of hers?

The red clad light carrier steeled herself. So be it. If she must sleep around to receive her much desired dangly bojangles, by god she'd do it! And finally she WOULD tear up her DFC membership at long last!

"Aye aye sir!" The light carrier stepped forward to receive the paper.

The elder repair ship pulled alongside Ryuujou and put an hand on the light carrier's shoulder. "You deserve it, kiddo. Go knock 'em dead."

Ryuujou's pettanko chest puffed up again. Vestal-san praised her again!

"Yah, ma'am!" The light carrier practically shouted as she left the room at flank speed.

"Well," Admiral Holloway cleared his throat, "That one was awfully excited about receiving her upgrade." The admiral turned to Vestal "Any idea why?"

The repair ship puffed out several acrid clouds. "Beats me, Boss."

...

Ryuujou stared at the sign outside the red-bricked building. She'd noticed the large words long before she saw the building's number.

The sign read: N.T.R. in massive, bold black letters while underneath, the smaller print read: Naval Technology Revitalization.

'Oh. So it was an misunderstanding.'  
The light carrier let out a breath she didn't know she was holding.  
'So there was possibly no adultery involved.. even though I'm not married.. hehe'  
Ryuujou let out an wry giggle at her own stupidity.

"'Kay here we go!" The red carrier held a fist to the sky.

...

A strange shipgirl met the light carrier at the door, whom Ryuujou identified as an repair ship, because she wore the same uniform as Vestal, but...

The shipgirl talked in an annoying airy voice, more akin to hisses and had an head full of dreadlocks, Ryuujou swore the girl's hair resembled snakes... wait. Did her hair just move on it's own?

Without ado, the not-yet-named repair shipgirl quickly ushered the light carrier into an room that resembled a cross between an mechanic's garage and an operating room.

In the middle of the room was an operating table with straps, which the airy voiced shipgirl reassured Ryuujou, were for her safety.

The dreadlocked shipgirl then ordered Ryuujou onto the operating table.

Ryuujou was hesitant at first then reminded herself about Fubuki going through the same procedure, steeled herself and climbed on the table.

The last thing Ryuujou remembered was the repair girl's almost repetilian eyes looking down at her with her creepy grin as she strapped the light carrier down and injected her with something, making her world fade into black.

Before the light carrier completely went under, her ears picked up something disturbing.  
"Yesssss this one is going to be interesssssting to work on!"

...

Ryuujou's eyes fluttered open after an indeterminate time.

She blinked her eyes open and snapped them shut as light flooded into her eyes.

"Ugh." The light carrier reached for her visor to try to block out the light... wait. Her arm was free. She remembered her arm being strapped down tight and unable to move it. It felt leaden when she lifted her arm, so she simply let her arm drop to her side with a fleshy thud.

However, the thudding attracted attention.

"I ssssssee you've come to." That irritating airy voice. The dreadlocked visage slid into view, blocking the overhead light, enabling Ryuujou to open her eyes wider.

"Well, well. I can ssssay the upgrade wasssss an resssssounding successssss. My bessssst work, so far, if I'd ssso do sssay myself!" The nameless repair girl puffed her modest bust out.

Wait. Boobs.

Ryuujou's hands shot to her own chest and felt around. Nothing. Smoothness. Not a single bump. Or bountifulness either.

What.

"I'm still FUCKING FLAT CHESTED?!"

The dreadlocked girl stumbled back a little from the red carrier's sudden outburst.

Ryuujou sharply sat up, pointing a shaky finger at the repair girl, "You! Did you even do any work?!"  
When the light carrier slid off the table, she stumbled a little, she felt like her balance was somewhat offset.

"Hey!" The dreadlocked shipgirl puffed her chest indignantly, "I take offenssse to your insssituationsss I did nothing! I jussst sssaid you were my bessst work ssso far!"

Ryuujou ignored the girl's complaints as she shifted her balance and nearly stumbled again.

The light carrier looked down and gasped. She lifted her head and looked straight at the dreadlocked girl, her face twisted in anguish.

"Do... you have a mirror?!" Ryuujou felt a heavy lump in her throat.

"Uh, yesss! Thisss way!" Dreadlocks motioned at the room next door.

The light carrier tottered and nearly stumbled twice on her way and when she arrived in front of the mirror...

...

The keening wail of pure anguish reverberated throughout the Naval base and echoed for miles around.

"I'M FUCKING PEAR SHAPED!" Ryuujo wailed.  
Instead of receiving her so desired chest mounted fuel tanks, she received the world's finest derriere.

...

The poor light carrier hung limply in her chair listening listlessly as the dreadlocked shipgirl, whom belatedly herself as Medusa, AR-1, explained what she did during the upgrade process.

Medusa even pulled out a detailed diagram of Ryuujou's original steel ship form and was pointing out various parts with a pointer.

"... Your double decked hangar is directly built into your sssuperstructure, so we can't do anything about that..." The droning purpose built repair ship moved the pointer to another part of the diagram, "... Fortunately, your ssstern was upgrade friendly, ssso we worked with that..."

Ryuujou awkwardly stood up and waved the dreadlocked repair girl off with an flippant wave. "Whateva. I'm done here."

Medusa puffed her cheeks. "Geez what IS your problem? I did my best, you know?!"

The light carrier glanced at the repair ship, for a moment the dreadlocked girl talked normally instead of that annoying airy voice.

"So.. you can't upgrade here?" Ryuujou motioned at her chest.

"Nope, sssorry. Like I said, your double hangarsss..." Medusa then shifted out of that irritating hissing voice much to Ryuujou's relief. "Look, you're actually pretty top heavy. If I tried to add, or modify anything up there, you'd be unstable. Adding that," The repair shipgirl pointed at Ryuujou's enlarged bottom, "Increases your overall stability and increases ballast."

Medusa then placed a placating hand on the faux McDonald worker's shoulder. "You actually were one of the trickier upgrade cases. I'm sorry you didn't get what you wanted. Reality doesn't always work that way."

"Yah, yah, I GET it." The Japanese light carrier sighed despondently. "Well, 'scuse me, I kinna want to be alone."

"I like you, RJ. My door's always open if you wanna talk!" Medusa sent Ryuujou a genuine smile.

Ryuujou smiled wanly "Ah... I'll... think about it."

...

The poor, listless light carrier trudged limply along the San Diego pier staring vacantly at the horizon.

All that effort... wasted. A fucking cruel joke.

"Whoooeeeee DAT ASS!" A passing sailor wolf whistled.

Two fucking months of hard work down the damned toilet.

"Whadda PHAT ASS!" Another sailor catcalled.

All she wanted was to gracefully exit the damned Delicious Flat Chest club.

"Oh, I'd tap that ass!" Yet another catcall.

Reality is fucking cruel. All that, only to have your spirit utterly crushed.

Ignoring the appreciative wolf whistles, the dejected light carrier stiffly raised an arm to the heavens with her fist tightly clenched.

Ryuujou then slowly raised her middle finger at the heavens.

Fuck you, Shipgods. No, seriously. Fuck. You.

The sun shone ever trollishly down at her.

The clouds wafted by, trollishly too.


	8. Kirishima!

Not really related to I.S.E. but, enjoy.

Kongou was eager to see her sisters again, after a particularly long expedition. Month-long, actually.

The returnee battleship rushed through the hallways to the room she shared with her sisters and practically threw the door open and boisterously announced her arrival with an English shout; "I'm HOOOOOOOOOME!"

However, the darkened room welcomed her with silence.

"Oh... nobody's HOME?" Kongou flipped the lights on, her internal radar returning with nothing either, further reinforcing the battleship's observation.

The first few steps inside were uneventful, until her foot bumped into something.

"Hmm?" Kongou looked down... and gasped!

Her anguished screams echoed throughout the dorm's halls.

"Oneesama?!" Hiei rushed in, attracted by her elder sister's screaming.

An teary-eyed Kongou knelt on the floor, cradling something against her chest. "Hiei! LOOK!" The fast battleship shifted her hands to give Hiei a clearer view.

Hiei fell to her knees. "Hieeeeee! We gotta get help!"

"Oneesama?! I heard Oneesama's scream!?" Haruna stepped in, her face scrunched up in worry.

The grey haired battleship gasped when she saw what Kongou was cradling and fell to her knees.

"Kirishimaaaaaa! Don't die!" Haruna wailed!

"SISTERS!" Kongou announced, cradling the object in her bosom, "We MUST get Kirishima to the DOCKS! She might be yet be SAVED!"

"Haruna agrees!"

"Hieee!"

"Oh, Oneesama. You're home?" A fourth person joined in and squinted at Kongou. "Ah, so THAT's where they went."

However...

"Kirishimaaaa! Hang in there!" Hiei cried, ignoring the fourth person.

"Sister! You'll be okay! Don't go towards the light!" Haruna reassured, the fourth presence not registering with her.

The fourth person frowned. "Hey..."

"YOU'LL BE ALRIGHT!" Kongou comforted the object.

"HEY!" Angry tickmarks formed on the fourth person's forehead.

The three fast battleships creakily turned their heads towards the fourth person.

In a single voice, they chorused: "Who are you?"

"What the heck do you mean? It's me, Kirishima!" More tickmarcks formed on her forehead.

"No you aren't. Kirishima is here!" Hiei pointed at the glasses Kongou was cradling.

Haruna and Kongou nodded in agreement.

Angry tickmarks formed on the back of the real Kirishima's clenched fist. "That does it! MIC CHECK TIME, DAMMIT!"

...

"I'm so GLAD you're OKAY, Kirishima!" Kongou relaxed in the steamy dock bathwaters, sporting an black eye.

"Hiei is relieved too!" The second Kongou sister smiled toothily, revealing several missing teeth.

"Haruna is so glad...!" The grey haired third Kongou sister nursed an bump on her head.

"Geez is that what you see me as?! A pair of glasses that happens to talk?!"  
Kirishima harrumphed, pushing her PROPERLY returned glasses up her nose.

The battered Kongou sisters remained silent.

"Oh you guys!" Angry tickmarks appeared on Kirishima's forehead once again.

...

Blame Gintama for giving me weird ideas.


	9. Misplaced Cruiser Reporter

*Static* Hello, hello? Is this thing recording? *click* OK, great. Heavy cruiser Aoba here, I've been assigned a mission by the Admiral.  
But not just ANY mission. Let's delve into the history behind the mission a little; Our Yokosuka naval base recently participated in the International Shipgirl Exchange Program, otherwise known as I.S.E. Program.

Three weeks ago we received our first I.S.E. guest, the American destroyer-escort, Eldridge-san.

The first few days of her stay went without incident, however by the second week, strange things started to happen.  
Such as: Kanmusus going missing for hours and reappearing with extreme wear and tear, tearfully throwing themselves at the Admiral, while making outrageous claims such as having not seen the admiral for decades.

Destoyers fearfully clinging to our Admiral, claiming to have witnessed their stuffed dolls somehow animate themselves and form an conga line while chanting in an unknown language in the dead of the night.

Strange glowing, green slime-like substance discovered on the Admiral's desk and an spear made of unknown material, deeply embedded into the wall. It took two battleship-strength girls to pull the spear out.

Battleship Hyuuga even claimed to have spoken to Elvis.  
That's just few examples of the mystifying events.

Suspicion naturally fell upon our guest kanmusu, for witnesses observed Eldridge-san within the vicinity of those phenomena.

My mission, as assigned to me by the Admiral, is to use my sleuthing skills as an reporter, to follow Eldridge-san around for a day and record her activities.

For this mission, I, Aoba, brought along my Walkman audio recorder to record my observations.

...

0602 hours: Aoba here! I'm on the outskirts of Yokosuka, in the warehouse district. I've managed to follow Eldridge-san to warehouse number thirteen.

0621 hours: I've snuck into the building without making too much noise and situated myself behind this crate with the swastika sign all over it. I have a clear view of Eldridge-san.

0637 hours: Eldridge-san is just standing there motionless... has been there for least twenty minutes. Wait. *tapping noises* Eldridge just started to tap on the floor.

0700 hours: *tapping noises* Eldridge-san has moved to the walls. The tapping is rather measured and orderly.

0740 hours: *tapping noses in background* My radio communications fairy just stumbled out and handed me a piece of paper then promptly resigned. Turns out Eldridge-san was tapping her own name over and over again in morse code. Fairy said the tapping drove her mad.

0823 hours: Eldridge-san seems to have ceased the morse code tapping... *fleshy tearing and popping sounds* OH MY GOD! Eldridge just tore her own arm out! She has this disgusting, perverted grin upon her face!

0839 hours: I don't know how she managed to tear her other arm out! She reattached them, but to the wrong sides! She even turned her head 180 degrees!

0904 hours: Eldridge just projectile vomited! Her vomit landed near me. It looks... purplish.

0910 hours: The vomit... somehow is animated. It's moving closer to me. I dare not to move or panic lest I compromise my mission.

0915 hours: It's moving closer! It's moving closer! It's moving closer! It's moving closer! It's moving closer! It's moving closer! It's moving closer! It's moving closer! It's moving closer! It's moving closer! It's moving closer! It's moving closer! It's moving closer! It's moving closer! It's moving closer! It's moving closer! It's moving closer! It's moving closer! It's moving closer! It's moving closer! It's moving closer! It's moving closer! It's moving closer! It's moving closer!

0931 hours: Vomit made contact with my leg. It somehow spoke in my head and claims it's name is Earl and it comes in peace. I'm suspicious.

0945 hours: Eldridge just PASSED through a wall! And solid objects too, what is she? Earl commented Eldridge has the ability to phase though things. Okay, I have an intelligent vomit.

1014 hours: I don't believe this. Eldridge-san somehow invited an entity into this warehouse. The thing is ENORMOUS. Butt-ugly too! The thing can only fit what seems to be it's face. Ugh those tentacles! I don't know where the rest of the entity is. Earl made an comment about the entity being one of the "Great Old Ones." Whatever that means?

1023 hours: Eldridge-san is serving tea to the entity...? Also, Earl has bonded to my leg. I cannot shake it off.

1033 hours: They seem to be holding an recital of some sort? *Deep echoing voice cuts in* _**Mglw'nafh fhtagn Ph'nglui mglw'nafh wgah'nagl fhtag L'hul CTHULHU!**_

1034 hours: Eldridge-san just stood up and clapped her hands wildly and praised the entity, proclaiming, I quote, 'Most perfect rendition of Shakespeare's King Lear, Lord Cthulhu!'

1106 hours: Entity has vanished to where, I do not know. Earl just informed me, Cthulhu returned to his slumber in the lost city of Ry'leh. Wherever that is.

1139 hours: Uh... my entire surroundings- no, the entire warehouse somehow... shifted to an outside setting. Or perhaps it was just me?

1208 hours: I have no clue where I am. I'm surrounded by ruins of some kind. It's apparently night time, but I cannot recognize any of the stars. Earl raised the possibility we're currently on another planet.

1217 hours: I see Eldridge-san! I'm following her.

1221 hours: Eldridge keeps pushing deeper into the ruins. I cannot identify the ruins at all. Earl stated they are of some kind of alien civilization.

1238 hours: I've arrived in some kind of clearing. Eldridge-san is standing in front of some kind of rock formation. It looks like an misshapen wheel."

1240 hours: Eldridge-san is verbally communicating to the rock formation...?

1241 hours: The rock formation responded?! The center of the misshapen wheel just flickered on?! It's like watching a really old television?! I'm holding out the mic to record their conversation.

1242 hours: Yo, mister Guardian of Forever! *deep mechanical voice* **Eldridge, you have come once again.** Yep, mister G! I wanna timeskip! **I remind you, it is not advisable to 'play' around with the time/space continuum.** Aw, mister G, I won't break anything... too serious this time! **... Which time period do you wish?** Earth, November 5th, 1913!

1244 hours: The so-called Guardian of Forever seems to be rewinding through events I remember, some I don't.

1245 hours: Guardian of Forever stopped rewinding... Eldridge-san just JUMPED into the image. I cannot see her exiting the other side of the formation... wait for meeeeeeee!

*Static*

...

The Admiral stared at the ancient-looking Walkman recorder on his desk. "You're absolutely certain, Yuubari?"

Green haired cruiser Yuubari nodded. "Without any doubt. Every test I ran, came back with the same result. It is without any question, Aoba's and over a hundred years old."

"That's... impossible. Aoba only went missing three days ago." The incredulous Admiral denied.

Yuubari slid over an DVD, "I've copied the contents and cleaned out the static. You'll want to listen to it, the contents are pretty disturbing." The experimental cruiser continued, "I was pretty surprised myself when the destroyers brought the Walkman to me after they found it behind a wood paneling at the old dormitory. At first I thought it was twenty years old, but after seeing the manufacture date on it..."

The Admiral picked the DVD and pocketed it. "I'll listen to it tonight. Dismissed." After Yuubari left, the Admiral leaned back in his chair and happened to glance at the photo on his desk.

The Admiral snatched the picture! "No... that's not possible..." In the picture, was the Admiral in his younger days, with his wife, his mother, his grandmother, and his great-grandmother. The Admiral's eyes were locked on his great-grandmother, which looked suspiciously like Aoba.

Elsewhere, a certain time and space bending destroyer-escort cackled. "I looooove messing with the time/space continuum!"


	10. Misplaced Cruiser Reporter 2

Admiral Hara stretched his arms tiredly and ran his hand through his silvery-pink hair, scattered upon his desk were reports he'd spent the past few days condensing all the observations and reports from the notorious Eldridge Incident few weeks before. Those reports were due to be sent up the Navy's chain-of-command by sundown, tomorrow, and eventually sent out to the United States Navy.

Normally he'd have his shipgirls and petty officers do the tedious work, but there was a great amount of politics attached to this particular report, due to the involvement of an foreign shipgirl and the disappearance of one of the JMSDF's prized heavy cruisers.

What made it even more stranger was, when he conversed with the United States Navy's brass via video conference the week before, the USN bigwigs repeatedly made it clear the Eldridge they sent over was an ordinary Cannon-class destroyer-escort whom displayed nothing extraordinary despite being under constant watch back Stateside. They even transferred an dossier containing photographs and videos of the Eldridge they initially sent over.

One thing that became abundantly clear to Admiral Hara, after viewing the photographs and vids, was the Eldridge they originally sent over looked and behaved nothing like the Eldridge he'd hosted.  
The USN admitted there was an 18 minute tracking and communications gap when Eldridge left Wake Island after a brief stopover to refuel.

Something definitely happened during those missing 18 minutes to the original Eldridge.  
Which raised the very high possibility the shipgirl Hara hosted, was an impostor.

Admiral Hara had carefully left out the discovery of Aoba's hundred years-old audio recorder and the disturbing contents it held during his communiques to the USN brass. He did not need additional layers of confusion and even more questions added to this mess.

Not to mention Aoba turned out to be his ancestor.  
This sort of thing was immediately classified, and reclassified as beyond top-secret, then classified again as super-mega-ultra-you'll-disappear-if-you-know-top secret.

Also, Hara himself was considered a walking time paradox, once everything was pieced together.  
This in turn, raised even more questions on whether the timeline was the original one or an artificial one.  
Who knows what sort of diverting influence Aoba had upon the course of history?

The entire incident gained the unwanted attention of an government unit whose existence was shrouded in secrecy. An agent, belonging to said organization, paid Hara a visit.  
The agent, in question only introduced himself as 'G-Black' to Hara after flashing his government credentials, and after asking several meandering questions, the so-called G-Black then attempted to remove the hundred-year old Walkman from Hara's possession.

In turn, the agent was rebuffed by Hara and forcefully 'escorted' off-base by the battleships Ise and Hyuuga, upon the admiral's orders.

Not even Hara knew of that unit previously, but what he was able to glean from the sparse information available about them; apparently they had an hand in the beginnings of the whole kanmusu program.

Unfortunately, Hara wasn't able to discover the name of the unit, just the fact it existed.  
Nonetheless, this was an Navy problem, not the meddling civilian government's.

A soft knock interrupted the admiral's thoughts.

"Come in," Hara halfheartedly called out.

The door swung open to admit destroyer Ushio and destroyer Yuudachi.  
"Ah, Ushio-chan and Yuudachi-chan." Hara smiled at the destroyer duo.

Ushio stepped forth, cradling an manila envelope against her chest, while Yuudachi trailed behind carrying a stack of papers.

"Admiral," The special type destroyer began, "I've brought the reports you requested."

Hara held out a hand to receive the envelope. "Good work, Ushio-chan. You have my thanks."

Ushio's cheeks tinged pink as she handed off the reports. This was one thing she- no, all shipgirls lived for, to receive praise from their admiral!

Yuudachi hefted the stack of papers. "I've, like, brought the reference sheets you asked for! Poi!"

"Good work, Yuudachi-chan. Put them there." Hara motioned at an clear spot on his relatively large desk.

"Poi!"

The admiral glanced at the additional papers, and immediately felt like an headache was coming. He mentally cursed the need to not involve assistants.  
Hara absentmindedly reached for his pen, preparing for the long, stressful night ahead.

"Admiral?" Ushio called out.

Hara lifted his head, a frown etched upon his features. "Yes?"

The busty destroyer fidgeted. "W-would Admiral like some tea and snacks?"

The admiral's frown was replaced by a smile. "Yes, I would like some. In fact, I could use a break."

"Then, please wait a moment while I prepare the tea." Ushio excused herself, followed by Yuudachi. "I'll, like, help too! Poi!"

Hara couldn't help but smile even more. Ushio was easily the sweetest shipgirl he ever met. A true Yamato Nadeshiko, in his opinion easily matching the likes of-  
The admiral blinked as an unsettling feeling crept up his spine, and warning alarms went off in his head.  
He knew this feeling too well. This was something he inherited from his ancestor, something akin to an internal radar similar to those on bonafide shipgirls, although his inbuilt set wasn't anywhere nearly as good.

Hara squeezed his eyes shut as he concentrated on getting an location of-

"We're back, Admiral." Ushio announced her return, holding a tray carrying three tea mugs.  
"I, like, brought the snacks! Poi!" Yuudachi added as she entered carrying a bowl full of rice crackers.

The admiral sighed. Shipgirls used their radars with great ease while he had to concentrate intensely to get something of an accurate reading and lose track of time.  
"Girls, you might want to make a fourth cup for our guest." Hara bent and reached down to open the desk's special bottom drawer. The drawer, where the admiral kept his most prized possession.

"A-a guest? W-we have a guest?" Ushio stammered as she quickly looked around the room. "I don't see anyone other than you, poi!" Yuudachi interjected.

"Our guest isn't here yet. In fact our guest's at the end of the hallway outside, approaching this room at flank speed." Hara fumbled with the combination lock on the drawer.  
The pink-haired admiral looked up and fixed his steely gaze on the destroyers, "Girls, what you are about to witness will not leave this room, nor will you utter a single word of it."  
It wasn't an suggestion, or a request, but a flat-out order.

The destroyers correctly interpreted the intent behind the admiral's words and saluted. "Aye sir!"

Hara half-smiled as he yanked the drawer open with an wooden *clonk!* and withdrew an long snouted digital camera out and promptly ducked underneath the desk, holding the camera like a rifle.  
"You girls might want to take cover. Wouldn't want you to get caught in the crossfire."

The destroyers obeyed without questioning, ducking behind the sturdy Victorian sofa which was conveniently placed against the wall, the sofa's backrest giving enough space between the wall for the destroyer to squeeze themselves in-between.

A deathly silence settled upon the room, with the exception of breathing from the destroyers and the admiral.

Suddenly, Hara leaned out from his cover and aimed his camera at the doorway with the practiced aim of an professional photographer and unleashed an furious volley of thunderous shutter clicks followed by the blinding split-second gunfire of camera flashes!

Silence settled upon the room once again.

"P-poi? What was that, admiral?!" An thoroughly bewildered Yuudachi called from her hiding spot.

However the answer came with an violent explosion of shutter clicks and intense lamp flashes from the doorway!

From their vantage point, the destroyers caught a glimpse of a hand holding an camera as it retracted behind the door frame.

"Oraaaaa!" Hara hollered as he rolled to a new position behind one of the guest chairs and took aim with his camera, firing off several clicks then ducking behind the chair.

The unknown person spun to the other side of the door frame offering the observing destroyers an fleeting glimpse of the person's general appearance, the unknown 'guest' had curves indicating that of an female, and wore an dark purple informal yukata. She ducked behind the door frame, responding with an equally furious counter-fire of shutter clicks.

"N-ne, Yuudachi?" Ushio poked the blond shipgirl, in which said shipgirl answered with a "Poi?"  
"Does this remind you of that game we played awhile ago?"

Yuudachi smacked her palm with her fist. "Poi! You mean Gears of War?"  
The brunette Ayanami-class destroyer nodded.

"It, like, looks that way, poi." The so-called Nightmare of Solomon quipped, as she peered over the top of the Victorian sofa at Hara randomly rolling, jumping and ducking behind various pieces of furniture 'firing' his camera.

Ushio lifted her head until her eyes barely peeked over the top of the sofa. "Admiral seems to know this person."  
"Poi? He knows?" Yuudachi inquired.  
"Admiral knew the person was coming before we did and knew exactly what to do." Ushio turned to face her friend.

The rather nonviolent shutter war went back and forth for several minutes with neither side gaining the upper hand.

"Like, why are we even hiding in the first place, poi?" The blond destroyer pointed out.  
Ushio shrugged. "Humoring the admiral, I s'pose?"

Hara attempted to roll back behind the relative safety of his desk, but the instant he exited his cover... a blinding flash, followed by an single, deafening and accurate shutter click caught the admiral flatfooted.

"O~ho! You're still a hundred years too early to defeat me, himago!" (Great-grandson) A familiar voice called out.

The voice was recognizable to the destroyers, immediately. That voice belonged to the kanmusu that went missing those weeks ago.  
"A-aoba-san?!" "Aoba-san?! Poi!" Yuudachi and Ushio called out the heavy cruiser's name in the same breath.

Hara on the other hand, grumbled as he stomped the floor in frustration. "You cheated, Baba! You totally did!"

Aoba stepped out from behind the door frame, fully revealing herself. She was smiling, but there were several things... _different_ about her.  
Ushio's eyes widened abit, for the Aoba she remembered, her hair wasn't that long compared to the Aoba standing before her.

Nor did Ushio's Aoba keep her hair in a pony tail. Her hair certainly was not waist-long either. Hair didn't grow that long in the span of few weeks.

Not to mention, Aoba most certainly did not have a great-grandchild. Yet this Aoba just referred the admiral as her himago.

What in the tarnation is going on?

Aoba's blue eyes narrowed at Hara, as she slipped her camera inside her yukata's loose sleeves. "A cheater, you say?"  
Ushio noted Aoba had visible crow's feet around her eyes when she narrowed them.

The admiral's mouth formed into a petulant pout, rather unfitting for his age and station. "Yeah, Baba, you cheater! I can never catch you off guard and take a picture!"  
Ushio blinked dumbfoundedly at the whiny tone Hara took. Her image of the admiral cracked a little.

Aoba smiled brightly at Hara. "Like I said, himago, hundred years too early to photograph me off-guard!"

Yuudachi leaned towards Ushio and whispered, "Like, why is admiral calling Aoba-san 'Baba'? Isn't that, like, a pet name for grandmothers... poi?"  
"Yuu-chan," Ushio whispered back, "Doesn't this Aoba-san... _feel_ different? Like, giving off the air of an _much_ older kanmusu?"

"Ah... you girls," The pink-haired heavy cruiser turned towards the destroyers, as if she only just noticed their presence.

"Yes!" The destroyers stiffened as they chorused in a single voice. Internally they did not understand why they suddenly felt the urge to give her respect usually reserved for elders and superiors.

Aoba approached the destroyer duo, looking them up and down carefully, her hands set in a thinking position.  
She then placed her hands on their shoulders, while nodding. "Still the same... after all those years."

Ushio worked her jaw in stunned silence, while Yuudachi managed to work out an utterance: "What...?"  
What was with that cryptic message? What years?

Hara grasped the heavy cruiser's wrist with a stern "Baba."

The pink-haired admiral glanced at the destroyer duo and motioned his chin at the door. "You girls go make Aoba a cup of tea."  
However Ushio, being considerably more perceptive than the blond destroyer, correctly decoded the underlying message: _'Beat it, I have things to discuss with Aoba. Things that are not meant for your ears. Take your time making the tea'_

With a simple quick bow, Ushio then grabbed Yuudachi's hand and tugged the squawking blonde out of the office, "Poooooooooooooooi?!"

Hara and Aoba stood in the relatively empty office for several long silent moments.

"They don't know yet, do they?" The hundred year old heavy cruiser fired the first question.

"No, not yet." Hara shook his head as he sauntered towards his desk. "By the way, Baba, why are you here?"

Aoba opened her mouth and let it hang for several seconds before giving the admiral a somewhat roundabout answer, "I figured you'd pieced everything together by now. I've been giving you hints and clues ever since you were thirteen years old."

"You gave me a hint when I was thirteen?" The admiral plopped into his plush office chair, placing his camera back in the bottom drawer and kicking it shut.

"I gave you your first camera."

"That's not much of a hint, and you couldn't have expected me to realize everything when I was just 13?" Hara flatly stated.

Aoba simply smirked as she launched into a small lecture. "Of course not. I was hoping you'd put everything together at a later time once everything accumulated. Investigating all kinds of leads no matter how strange IS part of investigative journalism!" She ended the sentence with a bit more excitement and emphasis than usual.  
The pink haired shipgirl then pointed at framed family photo resting on the admiral's desk, "I'm surprised you didn't realize something was amiss earlier when the... 'younger' me was still around."

"At first I thought so, too." Hara defended, "But you know what they say, 'For every person, there's two or three people who looks similar and acts similar' or however it went. So, I didn't look too deeply into the matter until the whole Eldridge incident happened."

Aoba held up a finger. "Point, can't argue with that." She then pointed at Hara, "Buuuuuuut... you still should've realized something was up. You DID inherit... abilities from, yours, truly."  
Hara threw his hands up and grumbled. "Fine, you win Baba. You're absolutely right, I should've thought of that."

The pink-haired heavy cruiser held up a victory sign, totally unbecoming of her age. "V!"  
Hara looked down at his ancestor. "By why are you sitting on my lap?" Somehow Aoba had slipped into the admiral's personal space and settled herself on his lap.

Aoba gave him a sparkling grin as she wrapped her arms around him. "Oh, refilling my himagonium stores."

...

Admiral Hara is an creation of mine, based off this guy wiki/Tameichi_Hara

Not a direct relative but let's say Aoba married to one of the Hara's, an elder brother or an cousin while stranded in the past.

Will continue with a part 3 whenever it tickles my fancy.


	11. PTSDestroyer

Johnston wandered to her usual table in the mess hall, her tray overflowing with today's lunch; an extra large slab of meatloaf with a healthy heaping of ketchup.  
But the meatloaf didn't matter to the destroyer. What REALLY mattered to her was the side of mouthwatering apple tart, extra large, to go with her 100% authentic Seattle coffee.  
Indeed, Johnston was something of a trend-breaker. She eschewed the UN violation in a cup, which was the infamous Navy coffee for something more elegant from her birthplace.

"You're back already, Jojo?" Hoel called out, or rather mumbled while her mouth was stuffed with meatloaf, crumbs falling out inelegantly; Johnston's brain automatically translated what Hoel actually said, which was something along the lines of 'Yurr ba alra'y Juuu?'

"Yeah," The destroyer answered, setting her tray down. "Line went faster than usual, probably cuz no Fleet carrier in front, holding up the line while they pile their trays high."

"Speakin' of carriers, lookit who's joinin' us today." Heermann pointed her fork behind Johnston.

Johnston twisted in her seat to see who Heermann was pointing at; coming down the aisle between the tables, was a group of light carriers.

The destroyer recognized the light carrier in front, leading the group as Kitkun Bay almost immediately, followed by White Plains, Gambier Bay, Kalinin Bay, Fanshaw Bay and St. Lo.

Essentially the entire Taffy 3 contingent, but what caught Johnston's eyes was the Fleet carrier in the CVE's midist.  
"Well, well! I'll be doggone!" Johnston whistled, somehow the Taffy 3 carriers managed to invite their idol, Enterprise to lunch.

It was no secret the CVE's looked to the Grey Ghost as their source of inspiration, nearing idol-worship.

Johnston herself never encountered Enterprise back during the days when she was an steel ship, but she HAD heard of Enterprise's exploits even back then.

"Ah..." Hoel piped up, having finally finished chewing and swallowed her mouthful, pointing in the opposite direction. "The Iowa sisters and Massachusetts."

Johnston glanced at the battleship group approaching the carrier group.

Battleships approaching carriers.

Battleships approaching carriers.

Johnston's face became wet with heavy perspiration.

Battleships approaching carriers.

Her grip tightened on her tray, causing the metal to groan and creak.

Battleships approaching carriers.

 _Captain Evans's hands tightened around his binoculars as he surveyed the horizon full of the approaching enemy fleet as the Johnston weaved in and out along the fleeing light carriers.  
"Full ahead, helmsman." The captain tersely ordered, "Prepare to lay smoke once we're clear."  
_  
Johnston let out an strangled cry, as she sprang into action. "N-no! Retreat!"

=======

Admiral Briggs buried his face deeply into his hands as he mumbled, "Continue, Taney."

Modified command ship, USCGC Taney nodded as she flipped an page on her clipboard. "...Then Johnston suddenly grabbed the pepper shaker and flung herself at the battleships while laying a thick, blinding and choking cloud of pepper while yelling at the carriers to retreat while they can, in an almost desperate voice."

"I'm hearing an 'and' there." The admiral moaned.

"Yes sir," Taney affirmed, as she flipped another page over. "Hoel and Heermann jumped in, and somehow they managed to force the battleships to retreat upon account of burning eyes caused by the pepper cloud. Needless to say, the other destroyers pledged their undying admiration towards those three."

Admiral Briggs let out a long suffering sigh. "Write this down, Taney, First thing to do tomorrow is to get Johnston to PTSD counseling."


	12. Crazy Canadians

American cruisers Omaha and Portland had met up with Canadian destroyers Iroquois and her sister, Huron for a routine patrol of the northern Pacific ahead of an incoming convoy.  
Mostly it was Portland showing Omaha, Iroquois and Huron the ropes since those aforementioned shipgirls were largely unfamiliar with the patrol route, having transferred from the Atlantic.

That would've been the plan but currently those shipgirls were frantically dodging Abyssal shells.

The unfortunate international team had stumbled across a large force of Abyssals, which no doubt had caught scent of the incoming convoy.

"I repeat, northern route A-13 is NOT clear! I repeat..." Portland frantically shouted into her earpiece as her AA suite blazed away at Abyssal planes.

"Should we retreat?" Omaha yelled over the din of gunfire.

Portland kept her hand pressed on her earpiece and raised her handheld triple 8-inchers with her other hand, taking careful aim. "It's no good! They're jamming us! If we retreat, they'll follow us right back to the convoy! We gotta alert them somehow!"

They could not launch their floatplanes due to the presence of an Wo-class whom was flooding the airspace with fighters.

"Torpedoes awaaaaaaay!" Iroquois excitedly howled as her thigh mounted launchers fired a spread of explosive fish.

"Torpedoes launched! ...All torpedoes expended." Huron coldly declared as she skidded in an inner semicircle to ensure a relatively tight spread.

Omaha slid near Portland so her soft, twangy contralto could be better heard over the din, "I got starshells, boss! Shall I fire off some and hope that alerts the convoy?"

"Got any red ones?!" The harried heavy cruiser shouted back in her heavy New England accent, "It's midday and white starshells ain't so good in this blazin' bright sun! Heck, got any green ones?!"

"...No, boss." Omaha answered sheepishly.

"Well shit!" Portland grunted in frustration. The heavy cruiser then shifted her attention to the two Canadian destroyers whom were weaving through Abyssal shell splashes with incredible finesse "Iroquois! Huron! Lay smoke and make it as thick as you can!"

"Aye aye Cap'n!" The destroyers chirped in near simultaneous acknowledgement as they proceeded to lay smoke.

"Omaha! You too! Lay smoke with them!"

"Smoke, boss?" The light cruiser questioned with a raised brow.

"Yes, I'm hopin' the smoke'll raise high enough to be noticed by the convoy!"

The older light cruiser pointed at the rising smoke, "Boss, I think that idea's a bust."

"What?! Oh, damnation!" Portland shouted angrily, and somehow managing to stomp on water.

A southwesterly breeze was dispersing the smoke before it rose beyond 100 feet (30 meters).

"Looks like we're in trouble, sister." Iroquois nonchalantly whispered to Huron, ignoring the fact they were being shot at.

"Indeed," Huron whispered back, having somehow heard her sister's whisper over the intense din of shellfire.

Iroquois then raised her voice to an excited pitch, "Well! All my fishes are used up and all I got is this peashooter, time to bring out my secret weapon!"

Huron blanched, raising her hand. "Sister! You cannot mean-"

Portland narrowed her eyes at the Canadian destroyer. "You have a secret weapon?"

Iroquois smiled widely as she answered in an peppy tone, "Aye aye, Cap'n!"

"Then, use it!" The American heavy cruiser growled without hesitation.

"Gladly!" The Tribal-class destroyer happily chirped.

Huron buried her face in her palms.

Omaha stared at Huron's reaction, a feeling of dread creeping up her spine. "Uh, boss-"

Iroquois then pulled something from wherever she kept her things, and held it up. "Ta-da! My personal creation!"

Portland stared unblinkingly at the thing in Iroquois's arms.

Omaha pointed with an incredulous expression, "It's a beaver! ...what's with the propeller sticking out of it's butt?"

The overly happy Canadian destroyer petted the fuzzy animal as she launched into a short explanation, "It's my personal Beaverpedo, Poutine Mark II!"

Huron looked despondent as she sweatdropped, "Please forgive my sister's absurd naming scheme..."

"It's a beaver." Portland deadpanned.

"No! It's Beaverpedo, Poutine Mark II!" Iroquois defended.

"It's a beaver." Portland repeated, deadpan.

"Fine! It's a beaver! But I tell you, Poutine mark II is deadly!"

Portland sighed as she raised her cannons, preparing to resume firing. "Whatever, get on with it."

The Canuck destroyer smiled widely as she launched the fuzzy, adorable buck-toothed 'torpedo' "Go, go Poutine Mark II!"

The living torpedo splashed deeply into the drink, then surfaced and began churning a heavy wake.  
Omaha stared gobsmacked and pointed, "Boss! Th' critter's moving at excess of fifty knots!"

"What?!" Portland pointed her cannons and peered through her optics at the furiously paddling beaver, she also noted the Abyssals had stopped firing. No, in fact the Abyssals were lowering their guns, attempting to blow the fuzzy torpedo out of the water.

Portland could make out the shocked and confused expressions on the Abyssals's faces, as the Beaverpedo made contact with the nearest Abyssal which happened to be the lone Wo-class.

An angry geyser erupted, enveloping the Wo-class, then spread to the rest of the Abyssals!

Panicked Abyssal screams echoed across the expanse of water.

"Kyaa?!"

"Iyaan!"

"My Wo-thes!"

"R-retreat! We cannot defeat it!"

Portland's jaw dropped all the way to the bottom of the seafloor at the sight of flustered Abyssals disorderly retreating, as they frantically covered their exposed breasts and privates.

"It..." A disbelieving Omaha began, "Gnawed their clothes off." Portland finished the sentence with an equally incredulous continence.

Who knew Abyssals were surprisingly conservative despite their varying state of undress they usually came in.

"Kyahaha! I told you, Poutine Mark II is deadly!" A too-happy Iroquois boasted as she placed her hands on her hips.

Huron looked shamefaced as she buried her face extra-deep into her palms.

"I... uh..." Portland was at a complete loss, she simply did not know what to say at this point.

"I don't know about you, Boss," Omaha placed her hand on Portland's shoulder. "But I, for one, am glad they're on our side."

Portland remained silent for a long moment, then gave a slow nod.

"...Yeah."


	13. Blurry Battleship

Musashi squinted at the small distinctive golden blob in front of her, she reached and gripped it and pulled.  
The thing refused to budge.

Musashi frowned, "Hrmm, this door is pretty shut tight."  
She applied more horsepower. The golden thing creaked ominously followed by a dry cracking noise!  
"A little more should do it!" The dark-skinned battleship gave the golden knob a final heave and the whole space in front of her gave away with a thundering, dry snap.

Musashi stepped through the opening and jovially announced, "Musashi has arrived!" and saluted at the blob in front of her, "Good morning, Admrial!"

A voice tinged with exasperation rang out. "You're saluting the bookcase, Musashi. I'm over here."  
Something poked Musashi's backside, the Yamato-class spun around, still holding her salute. "My apologies, admiral!"  
Musashi felt something smack into her front, but she shrugged it off. Her armor was strong, along the strongest ever. She would shrug it off like a measly torpedo.

A muffled, exasperated voice echoed from somewhere directly in front of her, "Get your breasts out of my face."

Oh. _Oh!_

Musashi's cheeks tinged pink. "My apologies, admiral! I shall reverse!"

The battleship took several steps backwards. "Stop. Stop right there." The voice tersely ordered.  
Musashi squinted at the proper admiral-blob in front of her and saluted again. "Yes! Musashi, reporting in!"

"Musashi," The admiral-blob ground out, "Can you explain to me, why you just ripped out a section of wall to my office?"

Oh.

"That wasn't the door?" Musashi sheepishly rubbed the back of her head.

"No shit, Sherlock!" A biting sarcastic reply. "Musashi, ever since you returned from your expedition yesterday with your optics blown way, it's been one bad thing after another! In fact this is the _third time_ this has happened!"

Musashi knew she had to apologize right at this instant.  
She bowed. "I humbly apologize, admiral." However, in response her forehead met something solid followed by the sharp, telltale _crack!_ of wood splintering.

 **"MUSASHI!"** The admiral-blob roared. "Not only you break the wall of my office, you headbutt my desk into half!"

 _Oh shit!_

"I-I'm sorry!" She began to bow again-  
"No. Don't bow." The admiral-blob cut in, growling. "Don't even move. Don't even blink, in fact, don't even _fucking_ breathe!"

The poor Yamato-class stood ramrod still as the admiral-blob brushed debris off his unform- or least Musashi thought he did.  
The blobby admiral cleared his throat. "Musashi, are you even _aware_ what you've been doing ever since you returned last night?"

The cat-eared battleship remained silent.

"No? Okay then I shall count them off for you." The blurry admiral-blob held up a... hand? "Firstly, you went to the cafeteria- I'm surprised you even managed to find your way there without leaving a trail of destruction- the kitchen staff reported they gave you your regular helpings- but you didn't even eat that. Instead, you ate the tray _and_ half of the table you were sitting at!"

 _Oh, so THAT'S why dinner tasted odd._

"Then you headed to the docks for a bath, I'm surprised you didn't break anything there either."

Musashi puffed her chest out proudly, least she wasn't so clumsy!

"After your bath, you somehow managed to use destroyer Fubuki as an towel! Honestly, I've never seen a destroyer nosebleed as much as her! We've had to get her a blood transfusion!"

 _... I used a destroyer as a towel?_

"Excuse me for a moment." The admiral-blob leaned to the left, and shouted at the newly made 'doorway'. "FUBUKI! I KNOW YOU'RE HIDING THERE! GET BACK TO WORK!"

A muffled 'Eep!' followed by the light scrambling of feet came from the exposed 'doorway'.

Admiral-blob shifted his attention back to the battleship. "If you hadn't noticed, Musashi, that destroyer's been following you around all morning, and mumbling I quote 'I hope senpai notices me MORE.'

 _I got an admirer? Yay!_

"Anyway, continuing on, you crushed Petty Officer Yamaguichi's brand-new Toyota Prius when you stepped on it! Don't tell me you mistook it for a stairway!"

 _Oh, so THAT'S why the stairs felt crunchy!_

Admiral-blob leaned close and whispered, "For that, I praise you. Thanks to you I've gotten to see that notorious ass-kissing brown-nose break down and cry like a baby. I've burned that sight to my memory for the rest of my life!"

 _Um... you're welcome?_

"Nevertheless! Compensation for the destroyed car is coming straight out of your paycheck! Along with the other damages incurred!"

 _Fuck! I was saving for that Super Sentai Blu-ray set and those extra-rare figurines!_

"And finally, you somehow ended up in the cruiser dormitory instead of the battleship dorms! I got a report from Haguro this morning detailing how you got into Ashigara's bunk and _used_ her like a blanket!"

... _Huh? So that's why... no, nevermind._

"Haguro also reported Ashigara won't come out of her room, she keeps cradling herself in a corner, mumbling about how she's a spoiled christmas cake!"

...

Admiral-blob cleared his throat, "Still, those incidents... are _not bad_ compared to the last time you lost your optics, and got hopelessly lost and ended up shelling Midway Island and nearly started a war with America! I've had to bow-and-scrape so many times to the Americans I left several dents in their embassy floor! Not to mention you managed to end up 'docking' in Mumbai, India! We had to wrangle with the Indian government to get you back!"

... _Sorry..._

The heavily breathing Admiral-blob held a blurry hand "Musashi, I personally am this close to having you scrapped, but I cannot, for you are a valuable ship to the JMSDF; I've prepared with a countermeasure to control you until your new optics arrive!"

 _Control me? I never-_

"NAGATO! GET YOUR STERN IN HERE!"

A black-and-white blob stepped through the 'doorway', "Nagato reporting!"

"Did you bring 'that' thing like I asked?" The admiral-blob demanded tersely.

"Yes, admiral!" The black-and-white battleshp-blob affirmed followed by the sound of something heavy and metallic hitting the floor.

 _Wait, that sounds awfully like ...chains?_

Admiral-blob then turned back to the dark-skinned battleship, "Musashi, I've judged Nagato as the best candidate short of your sister-ship, Yamato who isn't posted to this base, to _survive_ you."

Musashi couldn't keep her mouth shut anymore. "What do you mean, survive me?!"

"Nagato is to chain herself to you and serve as your seeing-eye do... I mean battleship!"

 _Wait, what?_


	14. Mamaprise

Just posting this here to hold the story and serve as a reminder to myself to finish it at a later date.

Part of a larger project headed by multiple authors, if you're curious about it go check 'Blizzard of the Red Castle' thread on Space Battles forum.

Right now, the whole Blizzard of Red Castle is currently fleshing itself out, and this side-story might be included if I feel like fleshing it out, tying plot threads together and eventually finishing it.

Anyway, enjoy~

Enterprise leaned against the door frame, sipping her cup of freshly brewed Joe as she kept a watchful eye on the living room's other occupant.  
Said occupant was waddling around, shirtless and clad in an overly large white Pampers diaper, clumsily touching the room's contents.  
Enterprise let out a breathy sigh from the blissful caffeine infused liquid, coffee was indeed a gift from the shipgods. But that paled in front of-

"Mommy! I foun'!" The toddler scrambled towards Enterprise, holding a toy F4F Wildcat airplane up high.  
Enterprise quickly put down the coffee mug on the nearby end table, lest her baby smash into her legs and get hot coffee spilled upon her. "Oh my. You found your airplane!"  
The blond carrier knelt down to the toddler's level, giving a motherly smile.

"Give you!" The toddler offered the plane to her mother, smiling widely and showing off her baby teeth.  
Enterprise could only smile even more as she ran her hand through the toddler's blond curls. "Why, thank you, Elly."  
Really, her child was surprisingly intelligent, because when Yorktown bought toy airplanes for her niece, it was a bunch of random navy planes: F-18's F-14's F-8's F-4's, F4F's and F6F's and so on, Elly seemed to prefer the toy jet planes while handing off the toy propeller planes to her mother.

It was almost as if the child instinctively knew her mother used those planes.

Also, Enterprise suspected her baby was an shipgirl aswell, mainly due to two things: her inbuilt 'shipgirl sensor' was yelling at her, and when Elly was born, Enterprise named her 'Enterprise' out of nowhere.  
Enterprise simply couldn't explain why, just the name forced it's way into her mind and demanded to name her child so.

Her elder sister, Yorktown came up with the nickname 'Elly' to avoid confusion between the two Enterprises, and that name stuck ever since.

Enterprise wanted to be doubly sure on her baby being a shipgirl, but the testing equipment simply wasn't built to handle newborns, until now.

Vestal dropped by the other day to inform Enterprise, the testing equipment built with babies in mind was nearing completion, now funding and technical help was flowing into the project since it was confirmed shipgirls could give birth. Beginning with Akagi but that was years ago and buried deeply until recent events came into light, regarding Akagi's child, and subsequently forced the secret to resurface.

Akagi. Who knew her old foe ended up being the one that blazed the way and proved shipgirls could have children?

"Hun'ry!" Elly pulled on Enterprise's sweatpants, snapping her out of her thoughts.  
The blond mothership quickly scooped her child in her arms, fixing her piecing icy blue eyes with Elly's equally blue eyes, "Oh, so you are. Let's get some breakfast in you, my little escort ship!"

The kitchen was relatively small, intended for no more than two people, but that didn't deter the Yorktown sisters and their fairies from moving in the house the Navy offered, when Enterprise went on her maternity leave.

Specifically, the house was located in the officer's housing section for the officers with families on the base.  
Even more specifically, the house was procured by Elly's birth father.

Yorktown was sitting at the dining table in the kitchen, reading the daily newspaper and sipping her freshly brewed coffee, she was a holdover in the internet age when every news in the world was at the tip of one's fingertips, but Yorktown preferred old fashioned printed paper, she just felt more comfortable that way. That was what Yorktown was doing when Enterprise swept into the kitchen, holding a giggling, spreadeagled Elly above her head while Enterprise herself was making piston engine noises.  
"Scout plane to base! We've arrived in the kitchen, beginning our scouting for the most exclusive... breakfast!" Enterprise reported in her most business-like voice.

"Brea'fast!" Elly repeated, giggling.

Yorktown looked up from the newspaper with an amused smile, "Oh! Um, base reports the exclusive breakfast is..." She never finished her sentence when Enterprise placed Elly in Yorktown's lap.  
"Enemy fire! Emergency landing!" Enterprise declared, while smirking.

That would keep Yorktown busy and away from the oven, or anything related to feeding Elly.

Enterprise did not trust her elder sister when it came to food, for Yorktown was a walking culinary disaster.  
Enterprise's cooking was nothing to sneeze at, not to beat her own drum, Enterprise was particularly proud of her culinary skills.  
Hornet on the other hand...

"Elly! Morning, good!" The elder blonde stumbled over her words. Enterprise's smirk broadened even more, Yorktown had two major weaknesses in her life, fear of torpedoes, and absolute adoration of her niece. Really, Yorky was nothing but a puddle of goo whenever she was around Elly.

Elly squirmed on the name-ship's lap and pointed a chubby finger at her aunt-ship, "Old aunty!"

Yorktown simply cracked and shattered into pieces. She pouted, "Soooo mean, Elly! I'm still young and pretty!"

"Old aunty!" Elly stubbornly repeated.

Yorktown's pieces crumbled into even smaller pieces. "Sooooooo mean!"

"Hey sis, where's Elly's bottle?" Enterprise cut in to their interaction.  
Yorktown reassembled herself in the metaphorical sense, and pointed at the fridge "I put it there, it's by the egg rack."  
Enterprise scowled as she flung open the fridge, she stopped herself from cursing in front of Elly. "Dang it, sis! I just milked myself, you _know_ Elly doesn't like cold breast milk!"

Yorktown raised her hands in front of her, in a placating manner. "In my defense, I didn't know how long you'd be playing with Elly!"

Enterprise snatched the baby bottle from it's place and quickly sprinkled some milk on her upturned wrist. "Luckily for you, it's still warm.. _"_  
The blond carrier turned from the fridge and caught sight of a bewildered Elly about to cry, presumably from the sudden and tense exchange between sisters.  
"Oh no, no!" Enterprise rushed and snatched her child from Yorktown's grip, her mother ship mode running at Full Ahead, "It's okay, Elly, Mommy's here."

"I, uh, I'll see myself out." Yorktown glumly said as she started to stand up but was forced back into her seat by Enterprise's free arm.  
"Sit, sis. I have something I wanna talk to you about." The legendary carrier-mom fixed her gaze with Yorktown's while cradling Elly.  
Yorktown raised her brows, "Something to talk about...?"  
"Yeah," Enterprise motioned at the toddler in her arms, "I'll tell ya after I get my lil' Ace all calmed down and fed."

After getting Elly to calm down, Enterprise offered the baby bottle, "You still hungry, my precious little carrier ace?"  
"Un!" The toddler nodded and opened her mouth.

"Okay, here it comes! Purrrrrrrrrrr" The piston engine noise again.  
Yorktown rolled her eyes at the silly Enterprise. Who knew the legendary carrier was such a softy when it came to motherhood.  
"Oh no no, he's being waved off!" Enterprise cried as she slowed the bottle's approach.  
Elly giggled softly "Ares' cable!"  
"Yes a perfect first cable landing!" Enterprise popped the bottle's teat into her daughter's mouth and after ensuring Elly had a firm grip on the bottle, the carrier shifted her attention to her elder sister.

Yorktown cleared her throat, "So, what did you want to talk about?"  
Enterprise seemed to deflate a little. "We're having a guest today."  
"A guest...?" The elder sister furrowed her eyebrows.  
"Not just any kind of guest," Enterprise petted her daughter's head. "The other half of my baby."  
Yorktown gasped and leaned forward. "You mean...?"

Enterprise grimaced as she eyed her elder sister. "Yes, Yorky, her father is coming by."


End file.
